


Live, Love, Dream

by amphitrite



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Break Up, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Series, Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amphitrite/pseuds/amphitrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a harsh separation from his wife Anzu, Yuugi learns how to survive a breakup, hold onto his dreams, and fall in love with a long lost friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live, Love, Dream

> _We're not the same, dear, as we used to be_  
>  The seasons have changed, and so have we  
>  There was little we could say and even less that we could do  
>  To stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you  
>  — “The Ice is Getting Thinner,” Death Cab for Cutie

 

Eight years after they said goodbye to the Other Yuugi — no, Atemu — Yuugi and Anzu got married. They had a Western-style wedding, and Anzu even invited some of her American friends from dance school. Yuugi’s family, Anzu’s family, and all of their friends from their dueling days came as well. Even Kaiba made an appearance, although he disappeared quickly after the ceremony, but not before bequeathing upon Yuugi a television set and stiffly wishing him congratulations.

Anzu looked beautiful in her long, white wedding gown, her now long hair curled and a brilliant smile on her face. Jounouchi was Yuugi’s best man, and Anzu chose Risa, her Japanese-American friend to be her maid-of-honor. The wedding went perfectly, down to the huge smiles that Yuugi and Anzu traded as they exchanged vows. When they turned to face their audience, everyone stood up to cheer; their mothers cried as someone yelled, “Finally!” Beaming at his friends, family, and his new wife, Yuugi decided that it was the best day of his life.

But two years later, the relationship began to sour. Anzu started coming home later and later, and Yuugi sometimes didn’t even get to see her before he went to sleep, leaving him with a hollow feeling in his heart. His favorite part of the day became breakfast. Anzu would always wake up early to prepare the meal, and he would stumble into their modest kitchen, his shirt askew, hair messy, pants wrinkled, fifteen minutes later, muttering to himself —

And then he would see her smile at him as she adjusted his shirt and clucked disapprovingly about his pants, and he would feel like the day was already off to a good start.

But lately, that smile that Yuugi had fallen in love with had become much rarer, much to his disappointment. He couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong — the Game Shop was doing well, he always did his share of the chores, he never complained about her late shifts, he tried his best to give her everything she needed.

“Yuugi, you can’t just expect your marriage to be all rainbows and butterflies for your entire life. Eventually, you settle into a routine, and things get old.”

Yuugi wondered when Jounouchi had become so wise. With downcast eyes, he answered, “Is it stupid to want the rainbows and butterflies to last forever?”

“No, not stupid. But maybe a little naïve. Even the brightest flames have to settle down sometime.” Jounouchi laid a calloused hand on Yuugi’s shoulder and said carefully, “Look, Yuugi, it’s not the end of the world. You love her, and she loves you. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know…” Yuugi trailed off, in thought. “Something just feels wrong. I wish I knew what Anzu was thinking. Jounouchi-kun, is this what happened to you and Tomoko-san?”

Jounouchi snatched his hand back quickly, suddenly shrinking in his seat at the mention of his ex-wife. “I…I dunno. I guess we did settle into a routine. But Tomoko and I, we just didn’t mesh right in the end. You and Anzu, though, you’re like made for one another.”

Yuugi brightened. “You really think so? I’m just so afraid of losing her. I can’t, I just can’t. She’s everything to me.”

Anzu really was everything to him. She had been a huge part of his life ever since they were tiny children. She had been his first — and only, for many years — friend, after all. While the other kids taunted him and excluded him, she had extended a friendly hand to him, and he had fallen hard. Nursing his crush for years, he had been shocked when she had finally asked him out. Years had flown by, filled with laughter and kisses and love, so much love. When she accepted his proposal, he decided that he could die happy without any regrets.

But now here he was, helpless to halt what Jounouchi saw as the natural course of their relationship.

Sighing, he climbed into bed with a Sudoku book and waited for his wife to come home.

*

One ordinary day, Yuugi was dusting a Capsule Monsters display in the Game Shop when the bell attached to the door jingled cheerfully. Turning to see who his customer was, he was shocked to find himself facing Bakura Ryou, his shy, polite former classmate — and later, friend — who had inexplicably disappeared after college. The white-haired man hardly appeared to have aged, but his long hair was now gathered into a neat ponytail and his large brown eyes were partially covered by thick-framed glasses.

“Bakura-kun!” he exclaimed in delight. “I can’t believe it! What are you doing here?”

“Yuugi-kun,” Ryou said simply with an answering smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s been so long! Where have you been? Come on back, I’ll close down the shop for a bit so that we can chat!” Enthusiastically, Yuugi rushed to flip over the sign on the door and gestured towards the door that led to the living quarters.

“Oh no, goodness, you don’t have to close down the shop. I just wanted to say hello. I can stop by another time if that’s more convenient for you.”

“Don’t worry,” Yuugi beamed. “All the kids are in school right now anyway. I only open the store so early because I have nothing better to do, and sometimes parents like to come in and buy birthday gifts. C’mon, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Offering him tea and juice, he led Ryou into the kitchen. Ryou asked for tea and thanked him as he watched Yuugi prepare it. They settled on the living room couch; Yuugi was the first to speak:

“I haven’t seen you in forever, Bakura-kun! How are you? Where have you been all these years?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I’m terribly sorry for disappearing on you all, but I didn’t know how to say goodbye. As to where I’ve been… Well, I’ve been everywhere, really.” He paused to sip his tea and compliment Yuugi on it.

“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s just the only kind of tea that my mom drinks,” Yuugi replied. “But what do you mean you’ve been everywhere? Have you been overseas?”

“Yes,” Ryou answered, “I’ve been doing research for these books I’m writing about the occult. I’ve always been really interested in the supernatural, and I thought it would be nice to do some real research on it. I published a book on Japanese ghost stories that did pretty well, so I decided to write more about the strange traditions and secrets of other parts of the world.”

“Wow,” Yuugi breathed. “That’s really cool! Can I read your books sometime?”

Embarrassed, Ryou said, “Don’t feel obliged to read them, Yuugi-kun. I would be honored if you did, though.”

“I want to! Gosh, I feel so boring. All I’ve done with my life is pick up the Game Shop from my grandpa and expand it a little, and here you’ve been traveling the world and writing books.”

Ryou shrugged. “I think that it’s wonderful that you’re still running the Game Shop. I feel like the world is so busy nowadays that people too often forget to step back and just do something that they enjoy. I’m glad that you’re here to remind people about the importance of games.”

“Yeah,” Yuugi agreed, a wistful expression upon his face. “That’s why I didn’t hesitate when Jii-chan asked me to take over the shop. He has become too weak to run this place by himself, but he didn’t have the heart to close it. I got a degree in Ancient World History and was going to try to find an archaeology job or something, but running the Game Shop feels more important to me. The older I get, the more I realize how little adults care about playing games. Even the kids mostly only come in to buy video games now. It makes me sad.”

“Yeah,” Ryou said sadly. “Speaking of games, do you want to play something? I saw your Monster World display up front… It’s been so long since I’ve gotten the chance to play it.”

“That sounds great!” Yuugi chirped. “I’ll go grab stuff. But no evil spirits this time, okay, Bakura-kun?” he teased light-heartedly.

Ryou laughed, and Yuugi was relieved that he hadn’t taken the joke badly. “No evil spirits,” Ryou agreed, a smile on his face.

*

Ryou ended up staying at the Game Shop for the entire rest of the day, helping restock inventory and catching up with Yuugi, who was more than grateful for the assistance. After they closed the store for the night, he decided to treat Ryou to dinner at a modest, nearby café, where he had a very satisfying bowl of ramen. On a whim, they even stopped at the local arcade afterwards, receiving odd looks from the patrons but not caring as they laughed together and relived childhood memories. At last, they departed, exchanging phone numbers and e-mail addresses. Ryou promised to show up at the Game Shop again soon, and Yuugi waved goodbye to him enthusiastically, a wide grin on his face.

On his walk back to his apartment, he realized that it had been the best day he had had in months. Recently, he had become so bogged down by Anzu’s increasing aloofness that he had forgotten to have fun. Although he proclaimed to want to remind others to have fun, he himself had been so lost in his own troubles that he had forgotten to enjoy life. Smiling to himself, Yuugi silently promised to stop worrying so much about his wife and to just take it easy once in a while.

But when he got home, he was forced to swallow his own words.

Anzu sat on the living room couch, watching television, no particular expression on her face.

“Oh,” he blinked twice, surprised, “you’re home!”

Stiffly, she flicked off the television and turned to him. “And where have you been?” she said sharply.

“I just went to dinner with Bakura-kun,” Yuugi explained. “He’s back, Anzu! He’s been all over the world, writing books. Isn’t that cool? We should all go to dinner sometime and catch up!”

Anzu didn’t say anything, only frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Yuugi asked curiously. “Why are you home so early today?”

“It’s past eleven,” Anzu answered. “Why didn’t you call to tell me that you were going to be home late? I was worried. You didn’t pick up your mobile phone.”

Yuugi mirrored her frown. “You never call me to tell me that you’re going to be home late,” he pointed out. “I probably just didn’t hear the ring. We were in some pretty noisy places.”

“I don’t call because you know I’m at work, Yuugi,” she said exasperatedly, in a condescending tone.

“Well, how am I supposed to know that?” Yuugi exploded. “I always try wait up for you, but you never come home on time! You know, when other guys see their wives coming home late all the time, they usually think that they’re having affairs or something. But I trust you never to betray me like that. So why can’t you just cut me some slack? Besides, every time I call you at work, you’re too busy to even talk for five minutes.”

“Well, excuse me for having a job that requires me to be doing something at all times,” Anzu snapped. “You and I both know who is earning the money in this marriage, anyway.”

Yuugi gaped at her. “Just what are you implying? The Game Shop is doing great!”

“Not great enough, obviously, if I have to work overtime so that money doesn’t have to be so tight.”

“Are you saying that I don’t earn you enough money?” Yuugi said, both angry and hurt. “I love my job! I thought you understood that I wanted to remind the world to have fun every once in a while.”

“Maybe you should try to put paying the bills before that kind of ridiculous goal,” Anzu suggested crossly.

“R-ridiculous?” Yuugi repeated. “When did you get so mean, Anzu?”

Anzu rolled her eyes. “When did you get so weak, Yuugi? All the other nurses at the hospital, they’ve got husbands who are businessmen and doctors and lawyers — powerful men. It’s practically all they talk about. They ask me about my husband and what he does, and what am I supposed to say? He runs a little game shop? Selling silly toys to children rather than doing something with his college education? Frankly, it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Yuugi squeaked, feeling like a helpless parrot. “You think that taking over my grandpa’s beloved store is embarrassing?”

“You just don’t understand, do you, Yuugi? You’re so stuck in your little childish dream world, where you can change the way that things are just by sheer will. When will you grow up and realize that dreams are futile? Look at me, I got into the school of my dreams, but then I got into that horrible accident, and all of my dreams of a career in dance were destroyed. Silly wishes and dreams are just a waste of time,” she spat bitterly.

“No,” Yuugi said firmly. “You’re wrong, Anzu. Back before I finished the Millennium Puzzle, I wished for friends, and I got them. Wishes can come true. I know they can.”

“Oh, grow up,” she scoffed. “I bet Atemu would never pursue such a stupid dre—” She stopped suddenly as she realized what she was saying, hand covering her mouth as her eyes shifted around nervously.

“Atemu?” Yuugi repeated slowly, completely confused. “What does Atemu have to do with any of this?”

“N-nothing,” Anzu stuttered, suddenly no longer angry as she made her escape. “I’m going to sleep. Good night.”

Yuugi didn’t reply, remaining in the same spot for a long time. “Atemu?” he muttered to himself. “I don’t understand…”

*

Many horrible days passed by, during which Yuugi tried desperately — but unsuccessfully — to get Anzu’s harsh words out of his head. Did she really think that his job was useless? Was that all he was good for, earning her money and giving her something to brag to her co-workers about? What happened to supporting him throughout all of his endeavors, the way she had back when he had been a duelist?

And what did Atemu have to do with anything at all?

“Excuse me, sir, I need help,” a small voice interrupted his thoughts. Yuugi blinked and looked down to see a tiny boy standing behind the counter. “I can’t reach it!” he explained, pointing at the row of newest Final Fantasy game. Yuugi smiled, understanding better than the boy would ever know. He retrieved a copy of the video game and went back behind the counter to scan it. The boy dumped a pile of coins on the glass surface, beaming expectantly up at Yuugi. Yuugi grinned back and handed him the game in a bag with the receipt.

“Thank you! Take care,” he said. Waving joyfully, the boy ran out of the store, almost barreling into a customer coming in.

“Whoa there,” the man said, “be careful, little one.”

Yuugi’s smile widened when he saw who was at the door. “Bakura-kun!”

“Hello, Yuugi-kun,” Ryou said, bowing his head. “How are you today?”

*

That night, Ryou treated Yuugi to dinner. Over okonomiyaki and green tea, his anxieties about Anzu seemed to diminish temporarily.

“So you’ve told me all about Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun and Otogi-kun’s lives. I want to hear more about you and Anzu-san’s.”

Yuugi winced, their recent fight suddenly flooding back into his mind after a much appreciated absence. Ryou noticed his pained expression immediately.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just…” Yuugi sighed. “Anzu and I haven’t really been getting along recently. We just had a really big fight a few days ago.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that. What was it about? Uhm, not that you should feel compelled to tell me or anything,” he amended. “Just know that I’m here if you need to talk to someone.”

Yuugi bit his lip, hesitant. “It’ll probably be good for me to tell somebody. It’s been driving me crazy.” He sighed again. “She got mad at me for not calling her when we were out the other night, and then she started complaining that I didn’t earn enough money. She’s embarrassed of my job because all her friends are married to lawyers and doctors and businessmen.” Rolling his eyes, he muttered, “Maybe she should’ve just married Kaiba-kun instead.”

“I’m so sorry, Yuugi-kun,” Ryou said with genuine sympathy. “That doesn’t seem like Anzu-san at all, from what I remember.”

“Yeah,” Yuugi said sadly. “She’s… She’s really different now. Since the accident, she’s just been growing more and more bitter and distant. The girl I fell in love with was full of dreams and aspirations, but… Well, Jounouchi-kun says that this is normal for a marriage.”

“But that’s not right,” Ryou protested. “Love should never expire.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Yuugi answered sadly. “But I don’t know anymore.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“I don’t… I don’t want to argue with her, you know? We get so little time together nowadays, and I don’t want to waste time fighting.”

“But things are just going to get worse if you don’t do anything about it,” Ryou pointed out. Yuugi grimaced.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “I just don’t know how to bring up something like that. You know, the other day, she said something strange: she brought up Atemu.”

“Atemu?” Ryou repeated, puzzled. “But it’s been years since Atemu…”

“I know,” Yuugi said. “That’s what I don’t understand. She said that Atemu would never have silly dreams like I do.”

Ryou was silent for a long time. “Yuugi-kun, did Anzu-san interact with the Pharaoh a lot back when he was around?”

“Uhm… I suppose so. He saved her from a lot of dangerous situations. Why is that relevant?”

“Do you think Anzu was ever interested in Atemu romantically?”

“What?” Yuugi laughed. “No way! That’s just too weird.”

“Is it?” Ryou wondered. Yuugi stopped laughing to give him a funny look.

“What are you saying, Ryou?”

He shrugged. “It just sounds like Anzu-san is comparing you to Atemu, which is a strange thing to do, because she is obviously with you and not with him.”

Silently, Yuugi mulled Ryou’s words over. “I don’t know, Bakura-kun. I don’t remember her acting any differently towards Atemu…”

“Perhaps I’m wrong, then,” Ryou conceded. “It was merely a thought.”

“No, no,” Yuugi amended, “of course I appreciate your input. But Anzu and Atemu… That’s just too strange for me to comprehend!”

Ryou chuckled along. “Yes, well, I suppose that it is.”

*

“Let’s go for a walk,” Yuugi proposed, leaning on the doorway as Anzu toweled her hair dry and selected a pair of shorts. Watching as long, slender legs slipped into denim, he wondered when Anzu’s curvy body had stopped exciting him. She was as beautiful as ever, her body still fit yet soft in all the right places, her breasts still perky and waist still tiny, her old pageboy hairstyle having grown past her shoulders. She customarily tied it back, but today it framed her face loosely. He didn’t feel attracted.

“A walk?” Anzu repeated. She eyed him, taking in his falsely easygoing pose, his hopeful smile, and his new blue polo. “Okay,” she said with barely distinguishable enthusiasm.

While he waited for Anzu to get ready, Yuugi lounged on the living room couch. He wondered how he was going to bring up the argument they’d had the other day. If only he could be certain that she wouldn’t get mad at him or misunderstand him, then he wouldn’t feel so unsure of himself.

The object of his thoughts stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in a tight pink blouse and a thin hairband, her cheeks painted a rosy pink. Yuugi eyed her, a little more interested now.

“You look pretty,” he said truthfully. She smiled at him.

“Thank you. C’mon, let’s go.”

They strolled down the street silently, Yuugi nervously glancing up at his wife every few seconds. They had walked two blocks when Anzu suddenly reached for his hand. Startled, he entwined his fingers with hers — they hadn’t held hands in at least a year. He looked at her, question in his eyes, but she merely smiled and squeezed his hand. Flooded with sudden glee, he squeezed back, moving closer to her.

*

When they returned home, Yuugi was in high spirits. They had stopped downtown for lunch, and then they had gone to check out a romantic comedy film that Anzu had enjoyed greatly. Yuugi found the characters much too two-dimensional, but he was glad that Anzu was happy. They had even snuck kisses in the dark of the movie theater, like they used to in high school.

Yuugi was taking off his jacket when Anzu suddenly pounced on him, pressing their lips together. Without a word, she led him to the couch, pushing him down onto it and crawling into his lap, kissing him all the while. Yuugi’s blood rushed to his groin as his hands almost automatically found their way up her shirt, the cotton pleasantly soft against his fingers.

“Anzu, what,” he gasped as her mouth found the sensitive spot on the left side of his neck. She leaned back to look him in the eyes and place a thin finger against his lips.

“Shh,” she soothed with a smile before tossing her shirt on the ground.

*

Yuugi woke up first, feeling more fulfilled than he had in a long time. Anzu’s head rested against his chest, her tousled hair tickling his chin. Smiling, he stroked it, marveling in the difference between the long, silky locks and his own wild ones.

Anzu breathed peacefully and steadily in her sleep, each exhale pleasantly warm on his chest.

He had missed this. They had gradually stopped having sex regularly a year into the marriage. Anzu had stopped initiating, and Yuugi had tried his best to entice her, but she was often too tired from work to do anything except for housework and sleep — and those were the times that she came home early. As the flame that lit their relationship had slowly begun to fade, their sex life had dried up as well. He wondered what had caused her to initiate today. She had even been incredibly attentive, unlike the last time they had slept together two months ago, when she had been so impassive that he had felt like making love to a rock might have been more exciting. He chuckled; that bizarre image had conjured up the memory of the time Jounouchi had drunken too much sake and ended up trying to sleep with a tree.

“What’s so funny?” Anzu mumbled into his chest, interrupting his reverie.

Yuugi explained it to her, eliciting a snort and a roll of the eyes.

“Men,” she muttered, but she smiled at him, laying a tender kiss on his cheek.

“Anzu, we need to talk,” he said seriously, deciding that it was now or never. He tried his best to disguise his nervousness, but he was paranoid that Anzu could somehow read his thoughts and believed him to be a total loser.

“What? No, can’t it wait for some other time? This is really nice right now.”

Yuugi frowned, tempted. It would be so easy… But then he remembered what Ryou had said. He would do what was right, not what was easy. “No,” he said firmly, “this is important.”

Anzu sighed, shifting to lie next to him, right elbow propping her up. “Fine,” she muttered, good mood soured. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Anzu, we’re so… We’re so different now. We used to be so close, we used to share everything with one another, we used to have fun together. What happened?”

“That’s easy,” Anzu said, the emotion behind her words indiscernible. “We grew up.”

Frowning, Yuugi pulled away to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Why does everyone say that? Love should never expire,” he said, remember Ryou’s words.

Anzu shrugged. “Just because we’ve settled into a routine doesn’t necessarily mean that our love has disappeared. It just means that — ”

“Do you still love me, then?” Yuugi interrupted.

Anzu hesitated for a millisecond before answering, “Of course I do.” Yuugi noticed, his heart sinking slowly.

“Then why are you so ashamed of my job?”

Anzu closed her eyes briefly. “It’s just not very prestigious, Yuugi.”

“Why does it have to be prestigious? It makes me happy.”

“You went to college and got a degree, Yuugi. You could be a professor, a lawyer, anything. Doesn’t it upset you that you’re not doing more with your life?”

“No!” Yuugi retorted, raising his voice. “I believe that I am doing a good thing, helping people stay in touch with their more childish sides, reminding people to be happy. There are enough professors and lawyers in Japan! I’m doing something that actually makes a difference.”

Anzu glared at him in disbelief. “Aren’t you even the least embarrassed that I earn more than you do? I know I am.”

“If money is all that matters to you, then fine, maybe you earn more than I do. But so what? I don’t care. I’m following my dreams, while you’ve sold yourself out so that you can have something to brag about. What happened to the Anzu I knew?”

“She died when she was hit by that drunk driver,” Anzu said bitterly. “You think that I chose to be a nurse? You don’t think that every day, I wish that I hadn’t gone out that night, that I had taken a different taxi, that I had come home for winter vacation? My dreams were taken away from me, Yuugi. It certainly wasn’t by choice, I assure you.”

“But you gave up,” Yuugi replied firmly, his eyes hard. “Sure, you had the accident, but you made it through alive. You could have become a dance teacher, a critic, a director, something!” Then quieter, “The Anzu I fell in love with would have done anything to hold onto her dreams.”

“Well, she’s gone, so you’d better get used to this one,” Anzu snapped. “Just like I’ve had to get used to your lack of ambition ever since I married you.”

“Damn it, Anzu, I don’t even know you anymore!” Yuugi exclaimed, jumping off of the bed, ignoring his body’s complaint at the sudden loss of warmth. “You haven’t been the same since that stupid accident, and I’m the one who has to take the brunt of it! I’m so sick and tired of it! Why can’t things be the way they used to be again?”

“That’s your problem, Yuugi,” Anzu countered, sitting up and putting her clothes back on placidly. “Kaiba was right all along. You’re always living in the past, chasing after the past, clinging onto it even after it has passed. You never know when to let go.”

“Me?” Yuugi squeaked, deeply offended. His hands landed on his waist as he glared at Anzu accusingly, the words slipping out of his mouth from some remote corner of his brain before he could stop them: “You’re the one who’s still in love with the Pharaoh!”

Anzu froze in the middle of buttoning her blouse, turning to fully face Yuugi slowly. “W-what did you just say?”

Yuugi scanned her face quickly, trying to read her unexpected response. That look, in her eyes — could it really be guilt? No, there was no way Ryou had actually been right about Atemu… But there was the proof, in Anzu’s wide, horrified blue eyes, which had been cold and angry just a moment ago.

“You’re in love with the Other Me,” he repeated slowly, horror seeping into his entire being. Anzu looked like she was about to cry.

“How did you… How did you know? What gave it away?” she whispered, suddenly seeming so fragile.

A lump suddenly invaded his throat, and Yuugi bent down to pick up his clothes and slip them on, waiting for it to disappear. “You brought him up the other night… That was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Anzu said quietly, heavily. “I thought… I thought, if I were nice to you today, maybe you would forget about that.”

Yuugi narrowed his eyes, shoving away the hurt at that statement for the moment. “How long, Anzu? How long have you been lying to me? Have you ever even loved me, or was I just a…substitute?” he said bleakly.

“I…” Anzu trailed off uncertainly.

“Don’t even think about lying to me!” Yuugi shouted, suddenly feeling more authoritative than he had ever felt in his entire life. “I deserve the truth. I have never wronged you, in our two years of marriage, in the ten years we’ve been together, in the twenty years we’ve known each other.”

Anzu cowered, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know, Yuugi. I do love you, but I can’t deny that I think about Atemu all the time. I lost him, but you were the closest thing to him… I thought that maybe I could pretend…”

“You couldn’t have him, so that’s why you asked me out after he left us,” Yuugi summarized bluntly, tears beginning to flood his eyes.

“I didn’t do it intentionally… I do like you, Yuugi, and I always have, you know that. I thought that I would get over Atemu eventually, I made it out to be nothing more than a childhood crush, but even after all these years, he still haunts me…” Anzu looked up, mascara running down her cheeks. “Please don’t hate me,” she sobbed. “It’s not my fault; I never wanted it to be this way. I know it’s unfair to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

Without another word, Yuugi strode over to the closet to yank a duffel bag down from the storage space above his clothes.

“What are you doing?” Anzu asked between sobs.

“I-I need to get out of here,” he mumbled incoherently, shoving random clothes into the bag as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Messily, he zipped the bag up and slung it over his shoulder. “I need some time to think.”

Watching him run into the bathroom to grab his toothbrush, she didn’t say anything, an unreadable expression on her face. She followed him to the front door, stared at his hair as he bent down to shove his feet into his shoes, and opened the door for him when he stood up and patted his pocket for his mobile phone. Their eyes met, and for a few seconds, time stopped. Anzu’s eyes challenged — begged — him to stay, but he couldn’t look at her without feeling sick and used. Murmuring a half-hearted goodbye, he stepped out into the hallway and quickly pulled the door shut behind him.

A gaggle of very obviously drunk teenagers strolled past his door, flirting vivaciously with one another, and it suddenly hit him: this was the worst fight that he and Anzu had ever had. Sinking to the ground, he buried his head in his hands and tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to overtake him. But as he remembered Anzu’s words again, the dam opened.

Sitting alone on his own doorstep, Yuugi wept — for Anzu’s desperation and guilt, for his naïveté and blind trust, and for their relationship, which would be forever tainted by tonight’s revelations.

*

An hour later, Yuugi sighed heavily, his face and clothes a mess from having to deal with a lack of tissues. He hadn’t cried like that in years, and it hurt him, both physically in his chest and emotionally in his heart, to know that it was his wife that had caused such pain.

But he couldn’t just sleep on his doorstep; he had to find somewhere to stay. His parents and his grandfather would be happy to have him over, but he didn’t want them to know that he and Anzu were fighting. They would ask too many personal questions that Yuugi wasn’t prepared to answer at this point.

Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed Jounouchi’s number by heart.

“Jounouchi-kun? I have a favor to ask of you. Anzu and I just got into a huge fight — I’ll explain it later — and I need somewhere to stay. Could I — ? What? Your dad? Oh. No, no, I don’t want to cause you any trouble. Don’t worry about me. No, I’m sure, it’s absolutely fine, I completely understand. Yeah, sure, I’ll call you when I find somewhere to stay. Thanks so much, Jounouchi-kun. Talk to you later.”

Yuugi frowned. He had forgotten; Jounouchi had moved in with his father after the messy divorce with Tomoko had depleted his hard-earned savings. The elder Jounouchi had not changed much in the past ten years, still drinking and gambling and forcing his son to take care of the bills. He was grumpier than ever and would never take kindly to what he deemed a stranger entering his house – much less sleeping in it.

He hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out who to call next. Should he try Honda? But his girlfriend lived with him, and he didn’t want to intrude. Maybe Otogi? But he might not even be in town; the successful game creator was constantly on tour for his newest games lately. Who else could he ask to take him in?

Suddenly, his phone vibrated, announcing the text message he had just received. It was from Ryou, who had sent him a Duel Monsters joke he had just read on the Internet. Of course, Ryou! Ryou was living alone, had a nice apartment, and best of all, already knew about the Anzu problem, thus relieving Yuugi of a painful explanation. Decided, he called Ryou, tapping his foot impatiently as the phone rang. Ryou picked up on the third ring.

“Bakura-kun? I have a huge favor to ask of you. Anzu and I just got in a bad fight, and I need somewhere to stay.” He paused. “Oh, thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me. No, I can make it over there fine, thanks. Yeah, I’ll see you in a little bit. Thanks again, Bakura-kun.”

With a little sigh of relief, Yuugi got to his feet, dusted off his pants, picked up his bag, and headed down to the street.

*

“Would you like some tea?” Ryou asked as Yuugi set his bag down and flopped onto the couch gloomily.

“No, thank you,” Yuugi mumbled, burying his face in one of Ryou’s fluffy pillows.

“Food? Shower? Anything?”

Yuugi shook his head. “I’m just tired. But thank you, Bakura-kun.”

“It’s no problem. Do you need to talk about what happened?” Ryou asked, sitting down in the armchair with a cup of tea. Sighing, Yuugi removed the pillow from his face so that he could look at Ryou.

“There’s not much to talk about… Basically, you were right. She’s still in love with Atemu. I’ve been a substitute all along.”

Ryou choked on his tea. “What?” he managed, coughing. “Are you serious? I thought she maybe loved you both, but I didn’t think Anzu would ever do something like that…”

“She said it herself,” Yuugi confided despondently, playing with a loose string on his shirt. “Said that after the Other Me left us, she wanted the next best thing. I’ve been such an idiot.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ryou said, reaching over to pat Yuugi’s leg. “You deserve so much better, Yuugi-kun.”

“Yeah. I treated her so well; I gave her all of me. I’ve always tried so hard to make her happy, tried so hard to make this marriage work, but I finally found out why I never managed to — because I’m not some 3,000-year-old pharaoh,” he said bitterly, tears welling in his eyes again. “I can’t stop crying every time I think about it. How could she do such a horrible thing? How could she lie to me like this?”

“I don’t know,” was all Ryou could say.

“It’s so unfair,” Yuugi cried. “I gave her everything, but in the end, I get nothing. Our entire marriage was built on a complete lie.”

“Not a lie,” Ryou protested. “Just a misunderstanding. I doubt Anzu forced herself to love you — she wouldn’t have married you if she didn’t love you, at least as a best friend.”

“Even if she loves me as a friend, I’m just never good enough for her,” Yuugi sobbed, feeling hopeless. Ryou moved next to him and held him as he cried. “I feel like there’s nothing to live for anymore — Anzu was my life, but now… I can’t go back to that old life. I’ll never be able to look at her in the same way again.”

“Don’t say that,” Ryou reprimanded. “You’re married — that means you made a commitment to each other; you should honor that promise, as should Anzu. You’ll work something out. Eventually, this will all be behind you.”

“No,” Yuugi said, shaking his head emphatically, “what’s the point of being married if we don’t love each other? I love her, but…it’s not the same. Maybe this is how she feels — like the person she loves has been taken away from her and replaced with someone much less desirable.”

“Yuugi-kun,” Ryou said firmly, “you are not less desirable than Atemu, okay? Don’t say that.”

Yuugi shrugged. “He was strong and confident and brave and heroic — I’m none of those things.”

“He’s also dead,” Ryou countered bluntly. Yuugi blinked in shock at the coarseness of the statement; he had never thought of Atemu as dead, but rather…in a different place. “Sorry,” Ryou said when he saw Yuugi’s stunned expression, “but in any case, he’s not here anymore. And besides, you are strong and confident and all of those things — you have always tried to protect your friends and to stand up for what you believe in. I think that’s a lot stronger and braver than winning card games. Atemu wouldn’t have been half the person he was without you.”

His sobs slowing, Yuugi looked up at Ryou with wide eyes. He had never heard such comforting words in his life. “Thank you, Bakura-kun,” he whispered. Ryou smiled down at him, laying a hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Yuugi-kun. Now why don’t you get some rest,” he suggested. “You can take the bed.”

“Oh no,” Yuugi protested instantly. “I didn’t come here to steal your bed from you. I’ll be fine here.”

“No no no,” Ryou argued. “I’m taking the couch and that’s final. Please, Yuugi,” he added, “you’ve been through enough as it is. This is the least I can do for you.”

Yuugi looked into his eyes and found only kindness in them; he nodded in defeat. Ryou smiled and stood up.

“Just give me a second to get everything ready for you.”

“Thank you!” Yuugi called after him, gratitude filling him. Ryou truly was a good friend.

*

The next morning, Yuugi awoke in a foreign bed in a foreign room of a foreign house. Upon remembering last night’s events, he groaned, buried his face into the too-soft pillow, and tried to fall asleep again. Just as his eyes were growing heavy, the silence around him was disrupted by the bang of a drawer closing, followed by a soft “Oops”.

Grumbling, Yuugi rolled over to glare at whoever had interrupted his sleep. His half-lidded eyes met Ryou’s apologetic ones, and he couldn’t help but smile at the guilty expression on the other’s pale face.

“Sorry!” Ryou whispered, looking half relieved and half worried at Yuugi’s smile. Yuugi laughed at his earnestness.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said sleepily, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. “Good morning, by the way,” he added as an afterthought. It was Ryou’s turn to laugh.

“Good morning,” he returned. “Do you need to take a shower?”

Yuugi glanced at the clothes bundled in Ryou’s arms and shook his head. “I do, but you can go first. I don’t feel quite like getting up yet,” he admitted, flopping down under the covers again. “You have a very comfy bed, Bakura-kun. Thank you for letting me hog it.”

Ryou smiled, bowing jokingly. “My pleasure, Yuugi-kun. I’ll try to shower fast,” he said, exiting the room.

“Please don’t!” Yuugi called after him, burying his face back into the pillow.

*

“Please don’t say anything about Anzu if anyone asks,” Yuugi said just before they reached the Game Shop. Ryou nodded, though he seemed uncertain as to the wisdom of the idea. Earlier that morning, he had asked Yuugi if he needed him to come along to distract him from his thoughts at work. Ryou was stuck in the middle of his current book, so he had convinced Yuugi that he also needed a distraction. Yuugi had been skeptical of Ryou’s excuse yet extremely grateful for his compassion.

Ryou helped Yuugi open shop, setting out the promotion signs, restocking the inventory, and sorting bills into the cash drawer, while his friend flipped through a catalogue of the latest, most popular games.

“Do you ever consider hiring employees?” Ryou wondered as he arranged a stack of board games neatly. Yuugi looked up from examining an elaborate World of Warcraft spread, frowning.

“Not really,” he confessed. “My grandfather managed this store by himself for so long, and he was thirty years my senior when he opened this place up. The only time that I’m ever really in need of assistance is during the holiday season, and usually Jounouchi-kun or someone volunteers to come in and help.”

Ryou “hmm”ed before saying shyly, “Well, anytime I’m in town and you need any extra help, I’m your guy. Being a writer means that I have a lot of downtime that I’d love to spend doing something useful.”

“Wow, Bakura-kun, that’s really generous of you. Thank you; I’ll keep that in mind. But if you have the time, why don’t you get a side job?”

Ryou frowned. “I had considered doing so when I first came back to Domino, but after talking to you, I’ve realized that I would much rather help you further your dream than be stuck as a waiter or a janitor or cashier or something at a crummy store. I believe in your dream, too, you know, and I think that it’s wonderful.”

Yuugi lowered his eyes to the ground beneath Ryou’s feet. “Thanks, Bakura-kun. It’s good to know that somebody around here has faith in me,” he mumbled gloomily.

“Oh, Yuugi-kun,” Ryou said sadly, putting the box in his arms down in order to go around the counter and put his hands on Yuugi’s shoulders. “Look, forget about that, all right? Don’t let her sway you from your dreams. You proved to all of us all those years ago that you were the strongest of us — you never let go of your morals and your ideals. Atemu may have been clever and talented, and Jounouchi may have had amazing luck and good fortune, and Kaiba may have had all that money and authority, but we all knew that you were the one who held us all together, with your faith in the power of our friendship and unity. Even in the face of danger, death, and betrayal, you held onto what you believed in. Please don’t let Anzu take that away from you.”

Yuugi burst into tears, and Ryou instantly wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

“C’mon,” he said gently when the tears subsided, “why don’t you help me organize these shelves?”

*

“Have you always been such an amazing cook?” Yuugi exclaimed as he dug into his dinner with delight. Ryou blushed, shrugging.

“I guess I’ve had a lot of practice; I had to feed myself after my mother and sister passed away.”

Yuugi frowned. “I’m sure they would be very proud,” he complimented. “This is really, really delicious, Bakura-kun.”

Ryou smiled shyly. “Thank you,” he said simply.

Days passed by, and the two men settled into a routine. Yuugi complained when he was awoken by Ryou every morning, Ryou accompanied Yuugi to the Game Shop despite the smaller one’s general grumpiness, they took their meals together (either Ryou cooked or Yuugi treated), and they traded the bed off every other day.

Over stocking shelves, over the dinner table, over games of chess and Duel Monsters, Yuugi got to know the man he now saw as his savior a thousand times over better than he had ever known anyone before. Although Ryou was originally hesitant to talk too much about himself, he quickly became comfortable with sharing his thoughts and experiences with Yuugi, who happily exchanged them for his own stories and opinions.

He was more than grateful for Ryou, who was now more than just a long lost friend — he had become Yuugi’s confidant, companion, and co-worker. Ryou never spoke of Anzu unless Yuugi brought her up, and he asked no questions when Yuugi started crying at the sight of anything that reminded him of his wife — or of Atemu — instead wordlessly holding him and giving him a shoulder to cry on.

Since that fated night, Jounouchi called him almost daily just to check up on him. Although he had initially been slightly jealous of the close bond that Yuugi and Ryou had developed, he eventually — to Yuugi’s immense relief — acknowledged the fact that Ryou was helping Yuugi patch up his broken heart.

In Ryou, Yuugi found someone that he realized he had been searching for for a long time. Not only did Ryou listen to his ramblings and comfort him when he was upset, but he also played with Yuugi. Although Jounouchi had been enthusiastic about Duel Monsters for a long time, he had given the game up after graduating from high school. Yuugi had tried convincing Anzu to play checkers with him or to do puzzles with him, but she, too, had stopped after some time, professing to be too old for such childish activities. Out of his circle of friends, only Otogi hadn’t stopped loving games, and even his love was oriented more towards the thrill of creating the games, rather than the fun of playing them.

But Ryou loved playing games. Together, they solved a myriad of puzzles, played countless board games and card games, and dueled endlessly — during slow hours at the Game Shop, at the posh local burger joint, after they had cleared their bowls and plates off of the dinner table. Since he had arrived at Ryou’s apartment, Yuugi’s life had become a complete paradox: he had never been so sad in his life, and yet he had never had so much fun in his life, either. He accepted it without asking too many questions, instead just being grateful for having met such a wonderful friend.

But one day, Yuugi was awakened by screaming. Sitting up so quickly on the sofa that he almost fell off, he looked all around him, sleepy eyes lethargically taking in his surroundings. The shouted continued.

Ryou — !

Shedding his exhaustion, Yuugi leapt off of the couch and into Ryou’s room, where his light-haired friend was tossing and turning in his bed, his arms flailing about madly.

“Bakura-kun!” Yuugi shouted over the other boy’s troubled moans. “Bakura-kun, wake up!” He shook Ryou, first gently, then more desperately. “Bakura-kun! You’re dreaming! Wake up!”

Without warning, Ryou’s eyes snapped open, his forehead damp with sweat and his breath coming in pants. He had become completely tangled in his sheets.

“Yuugi-kun,” Ryou breathed, his voice riddled with apprehension.

“Yes, it’s me,” Yuugi said gently, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Ryou whispered. “It’s just a nightmare. I’m really sorry that I woke you up.”

“It’s okay,” Yuugi soothed, reaching up and brushing Ryou’s damp bangs out of his face. Ryou leaned into his touch reflexively, and Yuugi felt strangely content with Ryou’s sweaty face pressed to his palm.

“What were you dreaming about?” Yuugi asked gently. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Ryou sighed, halting Yuugi when he tried to take his hand back. “No, I don’t want to keep anything from you,” he said softly. “I often dream about the spirit of the Millennium Ring… I know it’s been so many years, but I still think about him all the time.”

“That’s not so weird,” Yuugi said. “I still think about the Other Me all the time.” They looked away from each other as they both thought briefly of Anzu.

“That’s different, though,” Ryou said, distracting Yuugi from his gloomy thoughts. “Your spirit didn’t ruthlessly steal the souls of a ridiculous number of people.”

“I don’t know,” Yuugi said, shaking his head, “the Other Me did a fair amount of Mind-Crushing back in the day.”

Ryou chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. At least he had good intentions.”

Shrugging, Yuugi replied, “Whether or not he had good intentions, he still harmed those people and sentenced them to eternal punishment. Thank goodness he evolved into a more reasonable person eventually.” Ryou nodded but didn’t say anything for a while. Picking at the sheets with one hand, Yuugi realized his other hand was still cradling Ryou’s face, his fingers absently stroking the skin beneath them. They spoke at the same time:

“You should — ”

“Will you — ”

They laughed a little, and Yuugi gestured for Ryou to speak first.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked shyly. “I’m afraid to go back to sleep alone…”

Yuugi smiled. “Of course, Bakura-kun.” Joining Ryou in the plush bed, he arranged his pillow before flopping down onto it. Ryou turned his head to face him; in his eyes, Yuugi read his gratefulness. In the dark, Ryou shifted, grasping wildly in the space between them. His goal was made apparent when Yuugi felt soft fingers interlace his own small ones.

“Is this okay?” Ryou asked timidly, nervousness written all over his face. Smiling comfortingly, Yuugi squeezed the hand holding his.

“Of course it is, Bakura-kun.”

*

Over the course of the next week, Ryou kept close to Yuugi — hugging him whenever he said something nice, sitting beside him on the couch so that their knees touched, leaning against Yuugi when they were laughing so hard that they could hardly breathe. Yuugi didn’t question it, figuring that Ryou was still jittery from his nightmare. Their camaraderie continued, although Ryou began to spend less time at the Game Shop and more time at home working on his book. But the hours that separated them seemed to only energize Ryou for the times that he spent with Yuugi. Yuugi felt like something had changed, but he couldn’t pinpoint the difference, other than Ryou’s sudden unpredictability.

At night, they continued to share the bed, a concept that both parties welcomed. Yuugi felt infinitely better falling asleep next to someone, having been deprived of that privilege for so long. Some nights, Ryou would reach for his hand, and other nights, they would barely touch, merely arguing over the comforter playfully. Yuugi found it pathetic that he felt more at home in Ryou’s bed with Ryou than he had felt in his own bed for the past year.

Of course, his good fortune had to end sometime. And end it did, on an innocent trip to the grocery store. Ryou had proposed that Yuugi accompany him on the trip so that he could pick out what he liked and wanted Ryou to cook for him; Yuugi had happily complied, not seeing the point of sitting alone in Ryou’s apartment while the other man shopped for food with which to feed him.

“Hey, do you like peach soda?” Yuugi wondered, examining a six-pack of the beverage. When he received no reply, he turned around, only to find that Ryou had disappeared, most likely distracted by something in the next aisle. “Bakura-kun?” he called, reaching the end of the small aisle and looking back and forth. Moving down the perpendicular aisle, he peered into each conjoining aisle, searching for his white-haired friend.

As he passed the baking goods aisle, he caught a stray glimpse of brown and pink out of the corner of his eye. Pausing, he hesitated before backpedaling to peer at the tall woman reading the back of a bag of sugar.

Anzu.

Staring at his wife — the woman he hadn’t spoken to in weeks — Yuugi felt an overwhelming tide of emotions wash over him rapidly in succession: relief, anger, confusion, irritation, sadness, comfort, discomfort…

Frozen in his spot, he shouldn’t have been surprised when Anzu turned to continue down the aisle and spotted him. Her expression transformed from surprised to horrified to relieved to guilty to annoyed.

“Yuugi,” she pronounced solemnly.

“Hello,” he replied, stiff as a board.

“So you’re still around,” she said just as awkwardly.

“Yup.”

“Are you well?” she asked him timidly, as if she were afraid of what his answer might be. He didn’t know what she wanted to hear, so he told her the truth.

“Better than I’ve been in a long time,” he said honestly. He didn’t bother asking how she was doing; his anger towards her hadn’t faded to the point where he wished her well.

“Oh,” she said, seeming hurt by his answer. “Where are you staying?” He got the strange feeling that she was trying to drag the conversation on and could actually care less where he had run off to.

“I’m —”

“Yuugi-kun!”

Yuugi spun around to face Ryou, who was holding up a bag of tempura flour.

“I just found this, and I thought that maybe we could try making that tempura ice cream we had at that restaurant the other day! What do you think?” he said all in one breath, his excited expression making him appear five years younger. Yuugi couldn’t help but to smile at him.

“That sounds great,” he said genuinely.

“Bakura?”

The two men pried their eyes from each other in order to look at Anzu, who Yuugi had almost forgotten about. Ryou’s expression faded from enthusiastic to distasteful and then polite.

“Anzu-san. It’s been a long time. How are you? Yuugi has told me a lot about you,” he said politely, though his last words dripped with skepticism.

Other than a small flinch, Anzu ignored him, instead asking Yuugi, “So you’re staying with Bakura?” Yuugi wondered if he correctly heard the half-masked jealousy in her question.

“Yeah,” he replied simply, unsure what else he was supposed to say.

“I see,” she said stiffly. Yuugi suddenly felt bad for her. She was the woman to whom he had sworn his marriage vows, and yet he felt so uncomfortable around her. Her admission about her feelings for the Pharaoh echoed in his head once again.

“Well, we should g —” Yuugi began, but he was interrupted.

“Are you going to come home soon?”

Yuugi froze, both physically and mentally. Did she want him home? Had she missed him in his absence? Did she really love him after all? Did she want to make everything up to him? Could they work things out? Could things be different now? Was he ready to face the commitment he had signed up for? Did he still love her, now that he knew that she had always loved him second?

“No.”

Breaking out of his stupor, Yuugi looked up at Ryou, who had stepped forward, so that he was standing at Yuugi’s side. Ryou’s eyebrows were only mildly furrowed, and the frown on his face was so slight that it could have been mistaken for a pinch of the lips in concentration, but it was still the angriest Yuugi had ever seen his friend.

“No,” Ryou repeated, his voice strangely cold and unfeeling, “Yuugi-kun won’t be going back to you anytime soon. You’ve hurt him deeply, and it’s going to take more than a week or two away from you to heal that kind of emotional wound. I think you need some time to reevaluate your own feelings, too.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anzu stuttered indignantly, pink blooming on her cheeks.

“Bakura-kun…” Yuugi said in wonder.

“Don’t deny it,” Ryou said, sounding oddly bitter, “you know I speak only the truth.”

“Yeah,” Yuugi said. “I’m not saying that you’re wrong, just that I’m surprised, is all.”

Ryou brightened instantly, inexplicably. “Come on, Yuugi-kun,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nodding in agreement, Yuugi followed him out of the aisle, leaving his wife alone, between the flour and the cupcake tins, without a goodbye, her mouth left agape at Ryou’s harsh words, Yuugi’s betrayal, and their abrupt departure.

Yuugi hadn’t felt so liberated in a long time.

*

But of course, that feeling had to come to an end, too. That night, as they were dipping balls of green tea ice cream in yellow batter, Anzu called Yuugi’s mobile phone.

Thinking it was Jounouchi, Yuugi quickly wiped his hands on a wash cloth and rushed over to the living room coffee table, where his phone was vibrating merrily across the wood surface to the sound of a childhood tune Yuugi was fond of. When he saw the picture and the marquee identifying the caller, he stopped and stared at the screen.

“Yuugi-kun?” Ryou asked in concern. “What’s wrong? Who is it?”

“It’s Anzu,” Yuugi said uneasily, the phone vibrating in his hand and urging him to pick it up. Ryou frowned.

“Are you going to pick it up?”

“I don’t know,” Yuugi answered, watching as the call went to voicemail.

A few seconds later, the phone began to ring again. Still, Yuugi was too afraid to pick up and didn’t do anything but stare at the picture of his wife.

After Anzu called for the third time, Ryou commented, “Well, she’s rather persistent.”

Yuugi agreed quietly, waiting for the fourth ring with both dread and curiosity. But instead of his ringtone, the phone chimed cheerfully to inform him of the new voice message that had just been left for him.

“She left a message,” Yuugi said, answering Ryou’s question before he even asked it. He was still staring at the device with a lost expression on his face.

“Just leave it be,” Ryou said calmly. “You can listen to it later. First, let’s fry these quickly before the ice cream melts!”

Nodding, still dazed, Yuugi walked back to the kitchen counter, but he silently tucked the mobile phone into the pocket of his lounge pants.

*

Yuugi tossed and turned in bed all night; he was the one plagued with nightmares now: nightmares of Anzu yelling at him, screaming at him, throwing things at him, leaving him, accusing him of being a bad husband, an unskilled lover, an unfaithful partner, an embarrassment — all the while crying.

Wrenching himself from his too-real dreams, he woke up in the wee hours of the morning – the alarm clock behind Ryou’s head read 3:52 AM — and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling silently. The images from the dream flashed before his eyes, and he swore that he could hear Anzu’s furious accusations and her guilt-wrenching sobs echoing within his head.

A hand slipped into his own. “Yuugi-kun?” said a voice from the other side of the bed. “Are you all right?” Warmth filled Yuugi at Ryou’s concern. He shook his head, trying to erase the images from his mind.

“It was just a bad dream,” he said softly, clenching Ryou’s hand without realizing it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Anzu, she… She hates me, doesn’t she?” Yuugi whispered into the darkness, feeling his eyes water with suppressed tears.

“Of course not, Yuugi-kun, she’s just…confused,” Ryou assured him. “She probably just doesn’t know how to act around you. Did you dream about her?”

Nodding, Yuugi quivered. “I-in the dream, she said she hated me. She said that she never loved me. She said that I make a h-h-horrible husband,” he said, bursting into tears.

Instantly, Ryou moved to hold him, and Yuugi felt a presence loom over him. Puzzled, he stuttered, “B-Bakura-kun, wha —”

But he never finished his question, because he was suddenly overwhelmed by the thin, soft lips that pressed gently to his own, moving slowly against his stiff lips. His mouth dropped open in surprise, but Ryou took the shift as an invitation for more and advanced with his tongue, tentatively running it over Yuugi’s.

As sparks coursed through his entire nervous system, Yuugi lost control and surrendered to the new, long-forgotten feelings of passion, excitement, and completion that coursed through him, tears forgotten. Eagerly, he kissed Ryou back, tilting his head just enough to the left so as to allow their mouths to meld together. Ryou made a mewing noise and clung to him desperately, kissing him fervently. Yuugi shifted and rolled around so that he was on top, his hands digging into Ryou’s mane of hair, wondering at the silky texture of the white strands.

“God, I want you,” Ryou gasped, latching his mouth onto Yuugi’s neck. Yuugi arched his neck for better access, sighing in pleasure as Ryou swept his tongue across Yuugi’s heated skin. Arching his back, he accidentally pressed his lower body onto Ryou, eliciting a groan from the both of them. Fueled by the intimate contact, Ryou pulled Yuugi down to kiss him again, this time rocking against him.

Effectively rendered speechless, Yuugi voiced his pleasure through soft moans into Ryou’s mouth, and Ryou echoed them as they reached climax, one quickly after the other.

Completely spent, Yuugi flopped down onto the bed beside Ryou. Capturing Ryou’s hand within his own, he held it against his chest and surrendered to sleep within seconds.

*

The next morning, Yuugi woke up late, and to an empty bed. The night flashed back at him all of a sudden — the horrible dream and the…passion he and Ryou had shared. Both seemed so far away in the daylight. For a moment, he wondered if he and Ryou had really kissed, so blown away by that ludicrous idea… But then, he shifted, and his underwear made him suddenly overly aware of the fact that they hadn’t stopped at kissing. It was so unreal.

Even stranger to him was how unfazed he was by the details of the midnight encounter. Inexplicably, he didn’t care that Ryou was a guy, his friend, or that he, Yuugi, was a married man. All he could think about was the way that Ryou had felt in his arms. His eyes were suddenly opened to the fire that had been ignited between them. Making love to Anzu had been wonderful back in the good ol’ days, but this had felt like something else completely — and they hadn’t even bared any skin to each other, grinding like a pair of teenagers too intimidated by the idea of sex to initiate anything further.

Yuugi smiled to himself, running a finger across his lips, remembering the way that Ryou’s lips — rougher than a woman’s but still soft and pliable — had pressed against them. Resisting the urge to burrow back into the covers, he sat up and stretched, feeling giddier than he had in a long time.

He couldn’t wait to see Ryou.

*

But Ryou was nowhere to be found that morning. He didn’t come to the Game Shop, he didn’t text Yuugi any random questions or thoughts that had been floating around in his head, he didn’t pick up Yuugi’s calls about meeting somewhere for lunch and dinner. That night, when Yuugi returned to the apartment, Ryou was still nowhere to be found. Really worried, Yuugi called him over and again, but he never picked up.

Picking up a puzzle game magazine he had brought back from the Game Shop and flicking on the television, Yuugi decided to stay up waiting for Ryou.

He wondered if last night had anything to do with his friend’s mysterious disappearance. Ryou had initiated the kiss, but perhaps he regretted it. Perhaps he thought that it was a mistake and he couldn’t face Yuugi. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted it to go so far. Perhaps he was disgusted with his actions.

Yuugi paused in the middle of his puzzle, fixated on the thought. The possibility that Ryou was disgusted terrified him. Perhaps he had remembered all the details of the night wrongly and Ryou hadn’t wanted anything to do with him in the first place…

Just as Yuugi was pondering this wild thought, the front door opened. Looking over, Yuugi saw Ryou in the doorway, pale hair and skin outshining even the city lights behind him. He couldn’t read his expression.

But then Ryou slumped against the doorway, his hair oddly messy and shielding his face.

“Bakura-kun!” Yuugi cried, leaping off the couch to help Ryou up. “Are you okay? What happened? Where were you all day? I was so worried!”

Ryou mumbled something and then sighed. “Please don’t hate me, Yuugi-kun,” he whispered.

Purple eyes widened in alarm. “What are you talking about, Bakura-kun?” he said gently, leading Ryou to the couch. “I could never hate you.”

Ryou collapsed on the sofa like a bag of limp vegetables. Yuugi could smell the alcohol on his breath. He readjusted Ryou’s body so that he was sitting up and held him up with his arm around his shoulder.

“How much have you been drinking?” Yuugi asked, brow furrowed in worry. Ryou shrugged.

“A lot,” he mumbled. “You hate me, don’t you,” he murmured, eyes welling up with tears.

“Stop saying that I hate you,” Yuugi reprimanded firmly, looking his beloved friend in the eyes. “There is nothing farther from the truth. Why do you think that I hate you?”

“I forced myself on you…” Ryou said, tears spilling out of his eyes. He rubbed his eyes, trying helplessly to wipe away the tears. “How can you even stand to look at me, Yuugi? How can you even stand to touch me? I’m a monster, I’m a monster, and you should get out of here before I do you any more harm…”

“Bakura-kun!” Yuugi exclaimed in shock at the words spilling out of his mouth. Shaking him, he said, “You are not a monster. I never want to hear you call yourself that again. And are you upset about last night? Bakura-kun —”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ryou cut in. “I didn’t mean to,” he sobbed. “It was never supposed to happen! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, Yuugi-kun, please don’t hate me.”

Letting go of the other man, Yuugi turned away, staring at the kitchen counters without really seeing them.

“Don’t say that,” he said quietly, overly aware of how much it hurt to think that Ryou regretted what had transpired between them. He took a deep breath and turned back around to meet Ryou’s puzzled and slightly glazed eyes. “Did you like it?” Ryou tilted his head in question, but Yuugi gripped his shoulders. “Did you like…kissing me? And…all that?” He cursed his blood for rising to his cheeks, like he was some child too embarrassed to say the words.

Miserably, Ryou nodded, looking more contrite than Yuugi had ever seen him. He opened his mouth to say something — probably to beg Yuugi again not to hate him — but Yuugi never got to hear what he had to say because he leaned in to kiss Ryou. The kiss was soft and sweet, gentle and warm, tentative and slow; the only other parts of them that were touching were their knees.

Yuugi was in heaven.

“I liked it, too,” he offered softly, when they finally pulled away from each other. Ryou’s expression flickered uncertainly, as if he were struggling not to smile.

“I really like you, Yuugi-kun,” he said shyly. He couldn’t prevent himself from smiling when Yuugi took his hand. “I tried hiding it, but you were just so sad yesterday, and I wanted to make you forget about all that. I’m sorry.”

Yuugi wondered if Ryou would be admitting all of this to him if he were sober but then decided that it didn’t matter.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, pulling Ryou close to kiss him again. “I’m not sorry. Thank you for being so wonderful, always.”

*

“Yuugi-kun…” Ryou said quietly, as they were getting ready for bed. “What are we doing? What about…Anzu?”

Yuugi buttoned up his pajamas and sat down on the covers. He watched as Ryou pulled his hair out of its usual ponytail and slipped on a T-shirt for sleeping in, revealing his pale back. Yuugi followed his spine and the slight curve of his back with his eyes for the few seconds that they were exposed, imagining it was his hands and mouth tracing that lovely skin instead. When Ryou gave him a cursory glance, he stared at his lap, embarrassed. Wishing that Ryou hadn’t mentioned his wife, he sighed and got under the covers. If only he could just hide under them forever…

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “She seemed so sad at the market. She was crying when I left her. I think she really regrets that this happened.” He glanced over at Ryou to see his reaction; Ryou was standing with his back to the bed, stiff and still as a marble statue. “But like I’ve said before… I can’t go back to that life.” Ryou relaxed at his words, something that Yuugi noted curiously. “I can’t even face her yet. She’s given me a wound that I’m not sure will ever heal. I love her, I can’t help that, I’ve loved her for so long and so strongly that I don’t know how not to. But I can’t see her in the same way again.”

“Yeah,” Ryou said softly. Yuugi could read neither his tone nor the way he shuffled quietly to bed, but he thought maybe…

“Bakura-kun,” he said, prompting Ryou to turn his downcast eyes toward him. “Don’t question the future. I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know how things will be in a week, or a month, or a year. I can’t make you any promises, except that I will be honest with you about my feelings. Know this — every day, I am so grateful that you are in my life. You make me so happy. I feel like… I feel like you are somebody that I have been searching for for a very long time.”

Ryou smiled, and Yuugi knew that he had said the right words when Ryou leaned in to kiss him.

*

Yuugi knocked on the door of his house. Once, twice. By the third knock, a part of him was hoping that Anzu wasn’t home and then maybe he could avoid the subject some more. No, another part of him reprimanded, he refused to sneak around like some teenager or adulterer. As shown by Anzu’s secret affection for Atemu, it was better just to lay all the cards on the table. All secrets ever did was hurt people.

Besides, despite everything that had soured between them — Anzu was still his wife. She deserved to know.

The door opened. Yuugi swallowed nervously.

“Yuugi,” Anzu said, looking surprised. “You have a key. You could’ve just come in.”

“I was trying to be polite,” he said, taking her in with his eyes. Her hair was wet from the shower. She looked tired. Sad. “We need to talk.”

“Well, come in,” Anzu said awkwardly, showing him to the living room. His living room. Everything looked the same, but it felt so wrong just being there. As if he were supposed to play a part that he did not have the heart to continue playing. “Would you like some tea?”

This was just too bizarre. His wife was trying to play hostess to him in his own home.

He politely declined, then sat down on the couch. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the plunge. She deserved to know.

“So… I’m seeing Bakura-kun.”

The words rushed out of his mouth like a herd of charging stallions. Wracked by anxiety, he looked up to see her expression when she didn’t say anything. She looked even more tired now. Resigned.

“Why?”

What a loaded question. Why what? Why was he seeing someone? Why did it have to be Ryou? Why was he telling her?

Yuugi tried to answer as many of the unspoken questions that he could: “It just…happened. I really like him, Anzu. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I can… I can see us together, in the future, for a long time. I thought…” He paused, noting the suspicious glistening of her eyes. “I just thought you deserved to know.”

With his own wet eyes, he traced her stray tear down her cheek.

“Are you gay?” Anzu asked, and Yuugi hesitated, unsure how to answer the question. She sounded scared of what he would say. But he could offer her nothing but the truth.

“I’m not with him because he’s a guy. And I didn’t leave because you weren’t a guy,” he said carefully. “I’ve never noticed men the way that I do women. I didn’t see Bakura-kun in that light until, well, until I did, one day.” He tried his best to explain, but how does one explain falling in love? “The things that he gives me… The things that you didn’t… They have nothing to do with his being male. He supports me. He helps me in the Game Shop. He plays games and solves puzzles with me.” Then, quieter, “He believes in my dreams.” Hesitation. “He likes me the way I am. He doesn’t need me to be anyone else.”

Anzu’s tears were flowing freely now.

“I understand,” she whispered. “I’m glad for you. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you,” he said, unsurprised. No matter what happened — accidents, arguments, anything — the girl he loved was still always lurking beneath the surface. Anzu claimed that she had died, but Yuugi knew that wasn’t true. She may have been shoved away, tucked into a box, and hidden in the back of Anzu’s mind, but she still made an appearance at times. Not always when she was desired, not always when she was needed — but still there, somewhere deep in Anzu. Deep beneath all the hurt, all the shame, all the shattered dreams and broken hearts, lay the girl who had been there for him since he was a little boy being pushed around and teased by his bigger classmates.

“I’m seeing someone, too,” Anzu added after a little while. Surprised, Yuugi leaned back, eyes wide.

“You are?” he said stupidly, pushing away the hypocritical jolt of jealousy and hurt that coursed through him. She nodded, eyes downcast. “Who is it? Do I know him?”

“He works at the hospital. He’s a doctor.”

How fitting. Yuugi smiled to himself wryly. So they had both gone searching for what they had failed to find in each other.

“He’s a good man, but I don’t really see it going anywhere. I’m not nearly as passionate about him as you are about Bakura-kun.”

Yuugi nodded. “In any case, I’m glad you’re not alone.”

“Yeah.”

The awkward silence suffocated him, prompting him to check his watch. “I should get going,” he said lamely. “Let’s figure out all the legal stuff another time.”

Anzu nodded, and they stood up simultaneously. He met her eyes and couldn’t help it; he threw himself into her arms, breathing in the familiar scent of jasmine and orchids. She clung to him tightly and kissed his forehead, tender and loving and…genuine. He felt tears slide down his face and couldn’t tell if they were Anzu’s or his own.

“I’ll see you around,” he said hoarsely when they separated. She closed the door gently behind him. He stood on the doorstep for a moment, scrubbing his eyes. He could hear her crying through the door.

Swallowing hard, wiping his tears away, and bracing himself, he took a deep breath and stepped away from his old apartment — and into his new life.

*

Ryou always looked the most beautiful to him in the afterglow. His cheeks flushed with satisfaction, his lean body tangled with Yuugi’s own, the crescent of his lips curved upwards, the happy glint in his eyes like a promise of devotion, like a vow of love.

“Why me, Bakura-kun?” Yuugi wondered, crossing his arms on Ryou’s chest and laying his chin on them, his eyes tracing the contours of Ryou’s face lovingly.

Ryou smiled and ran a hand through his hair. Yuugi leaned into the touch, loving the feeling of those soft but firm hands caressing him. “How could I not fall in love with you, Yuugi-kun? Even in high school, you were always so kind to me. I’ve traveled the world and have still never met another person like you. So many people grow jaded as they get older. But no matter what you go through, you’re always still so full of hope and purity and innocence. People used to say that you were just naïve, but I know better. You’re just good. The world throws so much at you, but not only do you always bounce back — you always stay so hopeful. You’ve always been such an inspiration to me. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Rendered speechless, Yuugi kissed him, again and again. “You’re amazing,” he said softly.

“No,” Ryou answered, “you are. Yuugi-kun, I must confess… I’ve been crazy for you ever since we started hanging out. I didn’t think you would ever return those feelings. I had this stupid dream, this stupid hope, that you would never see Anzu again and that you would return my feelings and then we would be together forever. I felt really guilty about it, but…”

Yuugi smiled. “It’s okay, Bakura-kun,” he said softly, pressing Ryou’s hand to his lips. “Maybe your wish wasn’t so far off the mark.” He rested his head on Ryou’s chest as the other man’s arms came around him, holding him, protecting him, supporting him. Smiling, Yuugi whispered, “After all, I’ve always believed in the power of dreams.”


End file.
